1525 

jy 1 



io^s ©«f, 







n^^J), 



CRUDE ORE 



FROM THE 

ROCKY MOUNTAINS. 



RIGHTS RESERVED. 



-V 1:^ 



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33 



PREFACE. 



^v.'.XA>r>^ 



This little book is dedicated to the masses of the people, who in a 
greater degree hold the crude thoughts and virtues bestov^^ed by nature ; 
education refines but frequently removes the natural goodness of man, as 
the crude ores of the Rockies, loose their richest particles — the chlo- 
rides — by concentration. The Author^ 



INDEX. 




Friendship. ...... 


3 


ueatn. . . . . 

Contentment. ....... 


4 
5 


Worth. ....... 


6 


Honesty. . . . . . . 


6 


Timber-line. ...... 


7 


Israel. ...... 


8 


The Knight of the Silver Town. .... 


9 


Leadville. ...... 


lO 


Grant. ....... 


lO 


The Triumph of Liberty. .... 


II-I2 


To the North-wind. ...... 


13 


Jim Clark, of Leadville. .... 


. 14-15 


The Blind Girl of Pompeii. .... 


16 


The Old Year to the New. .... 


17 


Colorado. ... ... 


18 


" In Memoriam," 


19 


.A. Fragment — Sunset in the Rockies. 


'9 


Farewell. ..... 


20 


Henry George. ...... 


21-22 


Notes. ...... 


23 






^s^^^ 



COPYRIGHTED 1889 
nv 

S. J. Dp: LAN, Gi.enwood Si'rings, 

COLORADO. 



Pl'BLISHED HV 

Weeks & Campbell Company. 

NEW YORK. 




FRIENDSHIP. 

What is Friendship? Ask the drowning, 
When he sees, his life to save, 

Struggling through the waters frowning, 
Comes his rescuer, strong and brave. 

Ask the tender vinelet, clinging, 
To the oak's majestic form. 

When its rustling leaves are singing, 
*' I am sheltered from the storm." 

And the weary wanderer sinking, 

Faint from ills that hunger breeds. 

Ask him what his soul is thinking 
Of the hand that gently feeds. 

'Tis thy neighbor, said the master, 

When suffering silent, thou art mute, 

Sees thy wants, and grants them faster. 
Than if though had'st urged thy suit. 



DEATH, 



When do we die ? 
Not when enshrouded, the casket's lid doth close. 
Veiling the world from out our calm repose, 

Severing each earthly tie. 

When do we die ? 
Not when the burdened soul — its trials o'er — 
Fluttering timid through death's mysterious door, 

Passes on high. 

It is not death ! 
When, like a mantle from the shoulders thrown, 
Our nobler doth our grosser self disown, 
And like a birdling, the ascending soul. 
In spirit-infancy, achieves the goal, 

Breathing celestial breath. 

Then do we die ! 
When all the nobler feelings of the heart, 
That friendship, hope and charity impart. 

In fragments lie. 

Then do we die ! 
When confidence in man is turned 
To ashes, and all of love is burned 

Into a sigh. 

Then are we dead ! 
When gazing at unreached joys — 
Ambition weeping^intellect decoys, 
To idle misery — action needed 
By the saddened mind — we pass unheeded — 

Then, are we dead ! 



CONTENTMENT. 

Ali Ben Haden, — surnamed the "(ireat," 
With houri is dwelling, in blissful state. 
When the sceptre he held, o'er Islam's fold, 
The words of his lips were treasured as gold. 

Contentment, he taught, was the roadway o'er 
Which happiness blessed the rich and the poor. 
He said ! " Be content, and ever your share 
Of burdens in life, will be sterile of care. 

But where find contentment ! his Vizier said ! 
'Tis talisman great ! Hut where is it laid ? 
'Tis sought for by all! — this jewel so rare — 
And the labor of seeking increases the care. 

" Look down," said the Caliph, "Compare not thy place 
With those, who perchance, seem ahead in the race. 
In this wide world of Allah's there lives not a man, 
Who can find not a brother in pity to scan." 

Look said the Vizier, where sits at thy gate, 
Yon beggar, whose want; reflects on thy state ; 
Rags cling to his body, shoeless his feet. 
Where may he wander, this blessing to meet ? 

" Fool ! " said Ben Haden, "He seeks it not right, 
Where wealth s[)reads its glitter morning and night, 
Seek him, and ask, if his lips will disclose, 
From the pressure of need, the worst of his woes." 

The Viziei reLurned — "Great Caliph," he said — 
" Near to this beggar, the jewel is laid, 
He heeds not his rags, he lacks not for meat, 
Contentment will come, with shoes for his feet." 

" Haste," said Ben Haden. "Go bring from his seat, 
Seled, the beggar, bereft of his feet." 
Let him beg where yon other, will see him and find. 
The sweets of contentment — consoling his mind." 

See Note i, on last page. 



WORTH. 

A sunbeam once, with ruddy light, 

Gilding a clcud in wanton play, 
Shone on a road where a diamond bright, 

Lost from its place in sadness lay. 
Like mirror true, that "swift returns," 

The eager glance from beauty's eyes," 
The brilliant stone with radiance burns, 

And quick the sunbeam's kiss replies. 
Just then a dust cloud raised on high, 

By passing zephyrs, noticed them, 
And jeering as it hurried by, 

In transient glory, scorned the gem. 
" Scofif on " the sunbeam said, " though fallen low ; 

The diamond still is precious, raised on high, 
Still art thou vile, and yet will fortune show. 

Fame is not worth, though worth full oft may sigh. 

HONESTY. 

An honest man's heart is a lamp that lights his way. — Eastern Proverb. 
There is light within the human frame. 

That burns in a sacred spot, 
And when rightly trimm'd emits a flame 

That malice can injure not. 
'Tis a beacon light — decry it who can ! 

The upright heart of an honest man. 
With it he may wander the wide world round. 

And will ever find a friend ; 
For its holy influence knows no bound, 

And will never meet an end ; 
Never betrayed ! deny it who can ; 

Are friendship's trusts, by an honest man. 
Though falsehood may tarnish his modest fame. 

Or envy his conduct scan. 
It will lustre add to the noble name. 

Of a truly honest man. 
'Tis a sacred truth ; deny it who can ! 

" God's noblest work, is an honest man ! " 

See Note 3, on last page. 
6 



TIMBER-LINE. 



I stood on the crest in the sun-light, 

When the summer was growing old ; 

Yet the ages' trace, on the mountain's face, 
Was frozen, and white, and cold. 

I gazed at the distant meadow, 

Green with its verdure spread, 
Framing the brook, as it pathway took, 
Through the vale, like a silver thread. 

As upward my vision I gathered, 

Over forests wide of pine, 
I saw them sway to the zephyr's play, 
'Till they reached the timl)er-line 

Where in grandeur and sadness were lying. 
The broken, the dying, the dead. 

Like the havoc made, by the cannon's raid, 
On the ranks at the battles' head. 

Naked and gaunt, and frowning, 
Like a giant stripped for fray. 

The mountain stood above the wood. 
In the glare of the summer's day. 

I thought as again I gathered. 

The scene in my vision's ken. 
That nature's strife, resembles the life. 
The lives of mortal men. 

Some like the valley are peaceful. 

Some thrive like the evergreen pine. 

Whilst others must stand, a hapless band, 
To die at the timber-line. 



See Note 2, on last page. 
7 



ISRAEL. 



As Egypt's stream, whose turbid waters rise, 

From whence the warming rays of Afric's sun, 

Gives life within her burning breasts, 

Thence flowing, saw the rising mounds, 

Reared by the regal pomp and pride of men, 

Whose record seem, as shadows dim. 

Upon the mystic trace of time ; 

So the red stream that throbs within his veins, 

Hath lived when historys' tablets dark. 

Bore record only to the lives of Kings, 

But on the trace of ages lasting lie, 

Wrapt in no vagueness, the morning of his race. 

When in the strength of kinship stood they up, 
No monarch held their homage, only Him, 
The Great Jehovah, Creator, Lord and King, 
Of the Eternal Universe, to Hinj they bowed. 
All nations knew them, then, as now. 

So within the forest stands a hardy tree, 
Upright though scarred, bearing the mark of time. 
Thus stand his kin among the race of men. 
And like crude ore that through the furnace heat. 
Is stretched and strained — by blows made hard — 
And by such use become a weapon keen, 
Tempered and strong, so Israel stands, 
Trained for life's battle by the rack of time, 
And by this we know, the blighting curse. 
That did like Autumn leaves, so scattered them 
Among the nations, doth now with mercy blend. 

They heed not scoffs : they who hath stood 

Afore the Holy Seat, and in whose veins 

Course the same stream, that warmed the Nazarene. 



THE KNIGHT OF THE SILVER TOWN. 

Clothed by Autumn in garments white, 
Her towering peaks reflecting light 
Of radiant sunshine, gilding bright 
The vale of the Silver Town. 

Like maiden fair in times of old 
Waiting her steel-clad warrior bold. 
In turrets strong of castle hold ; 
So waits the Silver Town. 

But now the shades of evening creep 
O'er mountain pine and rocky steep. 
Chasing the light with shadows deep, 
O'er the streets of Silver Town. 



Roar on ! Oh stream ! in silvery banks 
And mountain sentinels in seried ranks 
With joyful echoes shout their thanks. 
And greet the Silver Town. 

For, breaking through the mountain's side. 
And rushing o'er the mesa wide. 
The " Steam King" speeds and claims his bride- 
The vale-born Silver Town. 

Thou can'st not hold thy treasure now 
Oh, mountain of the Aspen brow ; 
Thy strength is gone, thy portals bow 
To the Knight of the Silver Town. 




See Note 4, on last page. 



LEADVILLE. 

High on a mountain's Ijosoni born, 
Bride of the snow ; whose childhood's morn, 
When years had scanned thy waning prime, 
Will seem as story of mystic time ; 
When Islam prated of Genii's might. 
And fortunes garnered within a night. 
Not old Damascus, by ancient streams, 
With golden Ophir, present in her dreams, 
Compareth with thee, whose youth doth own, 
And gather all that science yet hath sown. 
Deep lung'd, and strong, thy children rend 
Thy mountain's breasts, and from their trend, 
Of rich arteries wring, such hidden store 
Of marvelous wealth, that nevermore. 
Shall Croesus hoards, or Inca's gold, 
Make wonder, when thy story's told. 

Bride of the snow ! whose suburbs teem 
W^ith silvery rock and golden stream ; 
I greet thy hills, thy pine-clad domes. 
Thy children's love, thy children's homes ! 
Though falsely charged with guilty fame, 
Sweet Charity redeems thy name. 

GRANT. 

July 23d, 1885. 
Angel of the silent wing ! 
Messenger divine ! no paeans we sing. 
Bowing before thy mystic might, 
With swelling hearts, in woeful plight ; 
The life is gone, the spirit fled. 
Of him who hath our warriors led. 

Angel of the silent wing ! 
Messenger divine ! our hero bring, 
With tenderest care, throughout the way, 
Where darkening shadows own thy sway, 
A nation's grief, a nation's love, 
Escort him to the realms above. 



THE TRIUMPH OF LIBERTY. 

(Written on the opening of the New Orleans Exposition). 

Who art thou of regal mien, 

Upon whose brow contentment sits, 

Triumphantly enthroned ? 

No Monarch I, though regal air. 
Mayhap befits me ; 
From the world's childhood. 

Mankind hath sought to dwell beneath my sway- 
Gentle it is, and just — 
And I would fain gather him there. 
Even as He of Nazareth yearned 
For the children of Jerusalem. 

It was given that man, 
Should reach such happy state. 
Through tribulation, toil, and trial long. 
Upon his efforts I my vigils kept. Aye ! ages ere 
I wept in anguish when the Spartan fell. 
Or hailed in'triumph the joyful day, 
When Xerxes and his subject hordes, 
Fled discomfitted. 

Since then I oft have grieved full sore. 
To see his labor sped in vain ; to see 
His blood a red libation poured. 
Upon the mournful earth— oft in my cause, 
But to gloat the foul ambition. 
Of tyrants of his kind ; more frequent; 
And these have used my name, arraying 
Brother against brother, to rivet the chanis of each. 

Thus hope and thus despair. 
Have been my sole companions ; hope waning, 
I bowed me down disconsolate. 
When throught the gloom despair had wrought, 
I heard my name evoked, and in my cause. 
Saw the banner of this land unfurled. 
Hither I came and here my stay hath measured, 

A century of time. 



But in this time foul visagecl war 

Hath grinned at me, and pointed where, 

With fratricidal hands, my children slew, 

Until the land — to which God's angels point. 

As being the i-efuge that doth shelter man, 

From his oppressors — drank deep in blood. 

And dark despair again enthralled me. 

When at my feet were laid. 

The broken shackles of a million slaves. 

Then came sweet hope ! but lingered timid, 
For greed had stretched its grasping hand 
Upon the substance of my people. 
And to serve its own atrocious ends. 
Did keep their loves apart, opening wounds 
That long since, else, had healed. 

But now my children's voice doth hail a Chief, 
Who like the zenith sun, shall equal shed. 
His genial rays upon a land united ; 
Knowing no North or South, nor East or West ; 
Standing impervious to the wiles of state. 

Whouldst thou know why contentment sits, 

Triumphant on my brow ? 

Behold ! And let the nations gaze upon this scene. 

Where Peace hath brought her victories. 

Man strives not here with Man, urged on by hate. 

But friendship ; 
Lo ! nature's products from all her parts, 
Together placed, and secrets deep, 
That she hath nursed for ages, unravelled lie ; 
Regretted not, for she but held in trust, 

'Till Man progressed ; 
And he hath taxed his hand and brain. 
To emulate — that he who most excels. 
In works that would prolong the joys and time of peace. 
Shall go forth victor crowned. 

Ambition this, of nobler sort that dwells with peace ; 

Both shall dwell with me. 

For I am Liberty, and this is my triumph. 



TO THE NORTH-WIND. 

Blow ! blow ! from crevice, blow, 
Where the hoary heads of mountains look. 
On meadows green and singing brook ! 

Blow ! blow ! North-w'ind, blow ! 

Blow ! blow ! from chasm, blow ! 
Where the cleft rocks grey, with icy sides, 
From caverns dark — the sun-light hides — 

Blow ! blow ! North-wind, blow ! 

Blow ! blow ! from forest, blow ! 
Where its monarchs bow from their regal hight. 
And tribute pay to thy phrenzied might. 

Blow ! blow ! North-wind, blow ! 

Blow ! blow ! from desert, blow ! 
Where the show-drifts whirl and with eager haste 
The wolf-prey speeds o'er the barren waste. 

Blow ! blow ! North-wind, blow ! 

Blow ! blow ! from ocean, blow ! 
Where the battling waves, with angry roar, 
Hurl the seaman's corse on the rocky shore. 

Blow ! blow ! North-wind, blow ! 

But the freezing blast of thy pitiless breath, 
Though followed by suffering, famine and death, 
Is mercy, compared to the harrowing throes 
Imposed by a fiend — the source of all woes. 
Yes ; all that is noble, all that is great ; 
All that may tend the soul to elate — 
Friendship and love, genius and fame, 
The trust of a brother, the pride of a name, 
And Truth— twin sisters to Nature herself, 
Is cast at its feet — an oblation to pelf. 

Blow ! blow ! from whirlwind, blow ! 
From its direful hight look down and behold, 
An evil more potent — the worship of Gold. 

Blow ! blow ! North -wind, blow ! 



JIM CLARK, OF LEADVILLE. 

Know him who went out? I shoultl think I do I 
For full two years, Jim Clark and Me 
Have been shift partners, what makes you 
Ask the question ? His gray hair ! Oh ! I see 
I will tell you all about it. Close the door, 
For the snow drifts in on the cabin floor. 

He is a big one. and as quick and strong 
As a mountain lion ; his great kind heart's 
As i)ig as an ore-bucket. He don't i)elong 
To the kind of folks in these here i)arts. 
His temper is sweet, and his voice as mild 
.As the prattling chat of a liltle child. 

Stranger, Jim Clark reached the camp poor. 
And footed the gulch with his blankets and pack — 
Many a good man has done so l)efore — 
Strapped like a l)urro's load right on his back. 
He's a rustler, and did'nt once squeal. 
Though he had'nt a nickle to buy him a meal. 

Weil ! he looked for work and work soon canie, 

For big strong arms, and an honest face, 

Is a winning card, and does the same, 

In the far off East, as in this here ]ilace. 

My pard first worked — and works there still — 

In the '• Izzard " Mine on the Flla Hill. 

Hill Hope and Jack were the under-ground shift, 
.yiiners they were, and used hammer and drill 
So that every time the cartridge would lift. 
Six buckets or more— they worked with a will, 
j^ut for practical jokes Bill had a knack, 
That was followed close, by his partner Jack. 

On day shift one morning, while handling fuse. 
To fix up a blast — Bill said to my pard, 
''Leave Jack at the windlass, and learn to use 
Giant Powder. We have drilled in rock that's hard. 
Down, down on the bucket, a full hundred feet. 
My poor partner went, Hell's horrors to meet. 



Bill tamped u}) the hole and fixed the snuff, 
Then said to my paid, " I will climl) by the rope, 
And leave you the bucket, there's fuse enough. 
For plenty of time." So up came Bill Hope. 
Stranger, she spitted, and spitted, full well. 
As Clark stepped in the bucket, pulling the bell. 

Round went the windlass, as fast as an arm 
At each handle could spin it. Swift as a lark 
My partner went upwards, flying from harm ; 
But the bucket stopped at the fifty-foot mark. 
The fuse spitted, and spitted its fiery road. 
And seemed like a devil reaching the load. 

Stranger, I say that my partner is brave. 

And will go to the front, where any man would ; 

But somehow or other a hundred foot grave. 

Is a concern we would shun, if we could. 

He looked up at Heaven ; looked down at Hell ; 

Said not a word, but jerked at the bell. 

Still stood the bucket, swaying in its place, 
I^ike a plumb-bob ; not a word from Jim Clark, 
He jerked on the l)ell--as pale grew his face. 
And the dim light of his candle grew dark. 
The fuse spitted away till harmless it sank. 
For it spitted at naught — the cartridge was l)lank. 

Round went the windlass, as fast as an arm 

At each handle could spin it. They knew they raced 

For a life and their joking turned to alarm. 

When my partner in the shaft house they placed, 

He lay like a dead man most of the day ; 

And when he came to, his black hair was gray. 

Forty-fives, stranger, is what the boys use 
When they mean business and pall out a gun, 
And a forty-five bore squared up that fuse, 
When Bill Hope and Jack turned up to the sun. 
Hut my partner has changed since that terrible day 
When he laid out the men who turned his hair gray. 



THE BLIND GIRL OF POMPEII. 

(Written on seeing the statue in Mrs. A. T. Stewart's gallery.) 

Mark the misery on the chiseled face ! 
And feel the swelling heart strain in its place, 
With throbbing anguish ! Note the list'ning ear ; 
The trusty foot-step firm. No sign of fear 
Upon that graceful form. Bereft of sight, 
Her blindness guides her hated rival's flight. 
Her rival's and her love's; both to save. 
The mission self-imposed. Ah ! gentle slave; 
Unheeded groans the earth-quake at thy feet, 
Or crumbling temples choke the crowded street. 
. Unnoticed gloom, for thy sad young life 
Was lived in darkness. What to thee the strife 
Of maddened Nature ? For thou wilt give 
Thy love ; thy rival, in happiness to live. 
But to thyself a grave. Oh, Gods above ! 
How great a sacrifice to rend from love. 

Nydia ! legend ! stone ! whate'er thou art ! 
Of noble natui-e, thine the nobler part ! 




THE OLD YEAR TO THE NEW, 1886-7. 

Like insects thai chirrup a L^reeting 

When born is the morning's first ray, 
Not knowing their life-time is fleeting 

That darkness must follow the clay. 
So man in his pride and his fullness, 

With shoutings will welcome thy birth 
Forgetting, the mote ! m his dullness. 

That sorrow is wedded to mirth. 
So came I, with joy and with gladness, 

Midst feasting and singing and glee. 
Now I am departing in sadness 

Not one has a kindness for me. 
Full many a joy and a blessing 

I have scattered to brighten his way. 
With ])lenty of comfort caressing 

The ingrate who speeds me away. 

With feasting and singing and dancing 

He will struggle thy favor to crave, 
Forgetting thy birth is advancing 

The debt he must pay to the grave. 
I bow to the edicts of nature 

And go to the ranks of the past. 
My record when scanned by the future 

On its pages in honor will last. 



COLORADO. 

Partner lend me a quarter please? I hate to ask. 

But hunger has broken pride. Its an awful task 

To have plenty facing you, yet wanting a meal, 

Hunting work, and getting advise ! I hate to steal, 

Thanks ! A quarter is riches to a hungry man, 

You will hardly believe it, — you whcj can 

Eat when you are willing, and have plenty left. 

Begging is troul)lesome, l)ut it is better than theft, 

Go up in the mountains? Why it is there I tost, 

What I made in the east, until all was lost. 

Sinking the shaft of the "Arlington" claim 

Yes ! its the chances of mining, no one to blame, 

But myself ; l)ut the worry, the struggle and care ; 

Long nights without sleeping — a larder quite bare, 

'Till my sick wife — God bless her ! was hurried off east 

By her friends ; not that she wanted to go — ami least 

Of all to leave me behind. I coaxed her away. 

For misery and want meant dying to stay. 

A nice country ! Oh, yes ! A bowl full of honey. 

But God help the flies who havn't got money. 

Well, I'll thank you again, and get me a meal ; 

(ilad that I asked you — I was thinking to steal. 

I am the Governor, and heard many relate, 
Of your helping to make me, the chief of the state, 
I have known you by name, and now know your face ; 
I have seen you before, but can't name the place. 
My face is familiar? — We have met in the past. 
For now I remember oui meeting at last. 
Come light a cigar and we'll take a short walk, 
Get away from this crowd and privately talk. 

It is three years ago, about this very spot, 

With a bright silver quarter you brightened my lot ; 

Ah ; Now you remember; Yes! the "Arlington" claim, 

Though cursed and despised brought me riches and fame. 

When despairing and starving — horribly poor, 

I gave up an interest to sink it to ore ; 

The balance is known ; I am eating the honey. 

And now I can help you to honors and money. 



IN MEMORIAM. 

The wavelets ripple on the shore. 

The swallows twitter as they soar, 
The birds within their bowers sing 

A cadence sweet to golden spring. 
Where gently bow yon willow trees, 

To the whisper soft of the noon -tide breeze, 
Embowered in the emerald glade. 

My darling sleeps beneath their shade. 

The sunl)eams bright with gilding ray. 

Among the laughing daisies play, 
And modest violets growing near. 

With fragrance sweet perfume the air. 
The crystal brooklet murmuring by. 

Bears to her couch her lover's sigh 
And as it wanders to the sea, 

Signs nature's softest lullal>y. 



A FRAGMENT 
SUN-SET IN THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS 

And now the waning sun sinking in the west. 

i:)iscards his robes of fleecy clouds, on 

And around the mountain tops, so painting all 

With bright aud roseate hues, that through the iitts 

The golden sky, seems as the glistening gates 

Of paradise ! Its radiant sheen tints the green giass. 

Into that peaceful hue, that rests the wearied eyes. 

When gazed upon. Hushed is all nature, 
As if afraid the moving pageant gone 
Will leave in stvgian gloom, tne earth torever 
No deepening shadows mark the coming night. 
For like a maiden brightened by her lover s gaze- 
Diana comes ! And with her chastened light. 
Soothes nature's sleep. 

19 



FAREWELL. 

Like the morning sun in summer, 
Gilding bright the ocean wide, 

Like the gentle rain in summer, 

Cooling green the mountain side. 

So your presence here among us, 

Filled our hearts with rare delight, 

Yes ! your presence drew around us 

Golden dreams and visions bright. 

But the sun must set and sadness, 
When we see your face no more, 

Will turn to gloom our gladness. 

Like the sunshine clouded o'er. 




HENRY GEORGE. • 

History repeats itself, and as far back as the mystic Ijorder of tradi- 
tion, there have ever been reformers to grapple with questions and 
emergencies arising out of the social conditions of man. Unfortunately 
they are generally Utopian in their views and teachings, and in their 
anxiety to accelerate reforms, they frequently injure the very cause they 
support. This must be to a certain extent excused, as possibly the high- 
est incentive that impels men to great efforts is the appreciation of his 
kind, and for one to enjoy this recompense his reform must be accomplish- 
ed during his lifetime. 

Henry George is undoubtedly honest, and there are many crude truths 
in his teachings. Crude because other minds, after he has passed away, 
will perfect the most meritorious. Reforms are not made in a lifetime, 
and their inception is due to a higher power than man, although the 
causes that necessiate them are created Ijy the utter selfishness of the race. 

Many minds arrived at conclusions through the fervor of imagination 
instead of matured judgement, which is only formed through thought 
based on observation and experience. 

The first mentioned class of adherents to a new doctrine are general- 
ly the most dangerous; they ignore judgement and precipitate revolution. 
The last deliberate on, and analize the subject until they are competent to 
reject the chaff, and are really the true reformers. 

Observe the fervor with which a learned and respected teacher of a 
powerful organization has seized on the teachings of Mr. George. So 
enraptured and dazed is he that he declares, "I have taught and will 
continue to teach, as long as I live, that land is rightfully the property of 
the people in common, and the private ownership of land is against natural 
justice, no matter l)y what laws, civil or ecclesiastical, it may be sanction- 
ed, and I would bring about instantly if I could, such a change of laws 
all the world over as would confiscate property in land without a penny 
of compensation to the miscalled owners." 

What a monstrous doctrine! Apply it in this state, where first titles 
are obtained from the government. 

A poor man without means, but possesing industry, energy and 
ambition, settles on l6o acres of government land. He lal)ors hard to 
improve it, works at times on the railroad grade, or anywhere else that 
that he can earn a few dollars to improve his place. Determined to make 
a home for himself, he lives at the salient angle of civilization, enduring 
the storms of winter and braving dangers and hardships that the well clad 
and well fed reformer, sitting by his fireside, never dreamed of. After 



years of hardship and lal)or he has succeeded in purchasing his land from 
the government. Through his labor and industry it is becoming valauble 
and yields a comfortal^le living to his family. Think of "bringing about 
instantly such a change of laws as would confiscate property in land 
without a penny of compensation." Take all his labor from him ! confis- 
cate a home of his own creation ! wrested as it were from nature itself. 
The doctrine is simply al^surd. Say it if you will that the wealth of 
nature belongs to the God of nature; that holders of great wealth are the 
stewards of God responsible and answeralile to him ; that he who seizes 
on more than a reasonable share of riches in his lifetime steals from the 
God of the universe ; limit fortune and income if you will, but do not 
tamper with the titles in land or property of any kind. When that is 
done the highest incentive to industry — the assurance of the enjoyment 
of the fruits of labor and economy is utterly destroyed. 

I repeat, the power that initiates reform is greater than man, and 
the attentive student of history knows well that however matters are 
"mixed," whatever are the troubles of the period, the hand of Providence 
is never "lost in the shuffle." 



NOTES. 



Note i — A man complainefl that he had no shoes, but when he saw 
one without feet he was contented. Eastern Proverb. 

Note 2. — Written on Mount Elhert, Colorado. 

Note 3. — On showing the manuscript of "Honesty" to a friend lie 
advised me not to iniblish it, in order to avoid the charge of Plagiarism, 
as the subject, he said, had already been versified under the same title 
and measure. I have, however, done so, knowing that I am innocent of 
wrong, not having seen or read the poem referred to, and, if it exists, 
mine must be one of those coincidences of thought, that sometimes 
occur and are hard to account for. 

Note 4 — Written on the entrance of the first railroad (Denver antl 
Rio Grande) in the town of Aspen, Colorado. The Mountains surrounding 
are very rich in silver, but owing to the cost of transportation could not 
be mined with profit, and for several years the ores were allowed 
to remain in place, awaiting the advent of a railroad. On the night of 
its entrance, the Mountains were suddenly illuminated with hugh bonfires, 
and immense quantities of dynamite exploded near their summits. The 
detonations creating a noise like the heaviest artillery, the celel)ratioii 
being one that will ever be remembered by the spectators. 



I iRRARY OF CONGRESS 

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